


Symphony

by Kuro_iplrrr



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One-sided Eddy Chen/Brett Yang, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-22 20:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_iplrrr/pseuds/Kuro_iplrrr
Summary: Brett couldn't remember when it started. What he could remember though, was that the flowers started as small, innocent petals.[cross-posted from wattpad]
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 118





	1. i. sonata

**Author's Note:**

> Breddy x Hanahaki Disease AU
> 
> A/N: Thank you for picking up Symphony. This is my first attempt at writing after three years, forgive me. This is also one of my attempts to write romance, I'm very bad at it. 
> 
> Crossposted from Wattpad. Originally published on August 3, 2019.
> 
> Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where a person who has unrequited romantic love towards someone else will cough up flowers for as long as their love in not felt in return. The flowers steadily develop to a stage where it completely fills the lungs.  
In my version of this AU, there are only ways to be rid of the disease: one, is to have those feelings returned; second, is to have surgery which removes the flowers from the person's lungs, but in turn removes the person's capacity to love that person ever again.

**···**

Brett never lied to Eddy.

At least that was what he thought.

Eddy places his violin back in his case as they wrapped up yet another episode of Violin Charades. He loosens up his bow before slowly depositing it in the case as well.

He notices the silence as Brett turns off the camera and tidies up the equipment they used for filming today. It was another long day of filming. Shooting four videos in a row didn't seem like much of a chore on paper. He stretches his arms and feels the joints there crack obnoxiously.

As he closes his case, he peers towards his partner.

Just as his eyes met the black framed ones, Brett avoided his gaze. His best friend set his back against Eddy, clicking his phone to life and browsing Instagram.

_Brett seems off today._

Scratch that, Brett has been off for the past few weeks. Eddy couldn't remember a time within the last month when he and Brett were together aside from filming or doing stuff for the channel.

Eddy fiddles with the drawstring of his pastel pink hoodie.

A lightbulb flashes above his head.

"Hey man, let's get some coffee."

At the sound of coffee, Brett turns back to look at him.

"Sure." Brett's face remains mostly deadpan, but his eyes shine brightly under the natural light filtering through the blinds. Brett pauses a bit, his head tilting towards his chest.

"What' you thinking about?" Eddy cocks his head to the side.

Brett's hand chases his throat. Eddy can make out the visible bob of his adam's apple as Brett swallows.

It happens.

The most ungodly cough escapes Brett's lips.

And Brett panics.

"Woah, dude are you alright?" Eddy rushes over, his hand gingerly patting against Brett's back.

Brett looks up at him, both of his hands covering his mouth. He shakes his head at Eddy, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, threatening themselves to escape.

Before he realizes it, Brett has bolted out from the room, his footsteps retreating towards the bathroom. Eddy chases after him.

He hears the echo of Brett's coughing against the bathroom acoustics before he sees him.

The faucet is on, the water angrily rushing down the drain. Brett is leaning against the sink, one hand dangerously gripping the edge of the white porcelain, his knuckles turning into a similar colour. The other hand is clamped against his mouth.

He stops coughing.

Just as Eddy nears the doorframe, he sees Brett's hand stained with red.

_Is that blood?!_

Eddy bolts forward, but next thing he knows, Brett is carefully rinsing off his hand. The red was gone as quickly as it came.

"Oh my god, Brett," Eddy exclaims, entering the bathroom, peering at the water down in the sink. "Bro, are you okay?!"

Brett, with his head still tilted down towards the floor, nods silently. The hand that was gripping the sink swipes against his jaw quickly. It drops and clenches against Brett's side.

"Are you sure?" Eddy puts a hand over his shoulder. "Are you sick?"

Brett pauses for a second. His other hand raises to turn the faucet tab. "Yea-" He croaks, his voice sounding debauched. He tries again. "Yeah, I've been really choked up lately."

Brett finally meets Eddy's eyes. His glasses are askew and his eyes are brimming with unshed tears, red and puffy. "But I'll be fine, I swear."

Eddy still eyes Brett worriedly. He sees that Brett is shaking ever so slightly. "We can pass on the coffee for if you're feeling like shit."

"No!" Brett's eyes widen in alarm, he exclaims, grabbing Eddy's hand on his shoulder. "No, I mean- it's okay, I would love some coffee. It wouldn't hurt, I promise."

Eddy looks back and forth between the other's eyes. _He doesn't look like he's lying._

"Okay," Eddy smiles back softly at him. "As long as you promise that you're fine."

Brett smiles back at him, with a tenderness that completely masks the fact that he was hurled over the sink just a few minutes ago. "I promise. I'll meet you at the door in 5?"

Eddy complies. "Okay." He steps back to retreat to the living room.

Brett fusses over his wrecked appearance. He meets his own gaze in the mirror.

_It happened again, Yang. And it was a close call this time._

He looks at his clenched hand and slowly unfurls it. It's an orchid, pale blue- almost white. Or at least what looks to be about half of an orchid, three petals give or take.

_Eddy could've seen-_

"I'll grab you a hoodie, is that alright?" Eddy's voice from the other room makes Brett jump.

"Yeah sure, thanks." Brett flings the repulsive petals down into the toilet and flushes it without second guessing himself.

He arrives at the door, seeing Eddy in is full denim-jacket, pink hoodie, and merch tee waiting for him, his violin case slung over his shoulder. Eddy is on his phone, his other arm holding Brett's black hoodie and violin case.

Brett's heart clenches at the sight. It was domestic and kind.

He often wonders what he did to deserve a friend such as Eddy.

But then he remembers that it was all that they would ever be.

Friends.

He scolds himself for thinking this way. _Do you really want to cough another one out?_

His throat only itches in response.

"Let's go?" Brett comes up to the other violinist, outstretching his hand.

Eddy lowers his phone and hands over the hoodie and the sleek case.

He simply nods as Brett exits, leaving Eddy to carefully lock the place, along with the memory of Brett leaning over the sink-

Along with the hallucination of seeing Brett with his mouth stained in dark red trails of blood.

**\---**

  
It's only a short walk. The two are surrounded with a comfortable, airy silence. The occasional honk of a car there, an Instagram ping here. Eddy occasionally eyes Brett from the corner of his gaze.

_He doesn't look bad. How did he get sick?_

They arrive at their usual cafe and Brett feels all the tension leave his shoulders.

The older of the two scans the area, peeking towards where they usually sit. It's a little corner right beside the giant glass wall which offers a view of the cityscape. The round wooden, varnished table with two simple chairs has been an avenue for several video brain storming moments, music arrangements, and simple chats between the two of them. Brett feels right at home here.

Eddy steps up to the counter, where two people stand before them, just finishing their own order.

"The usual?"

Brett nods. He fumbles with his pockets, feeling for the familiar bump of his wallet. Eddy relays the familiar set of drinks to the barista at the counter.

"Is that all you will be having? We have some pastries great to go with your coffee."

Brett sneaks a peek at the display beside the counter.

Eddy does the same. _I know you want one, Brett._ "Sure, we'll have a cinnamon roll and a croissant please."

"How much is it?" Eddy hears from beside him. A black leather wallet peeks open as Brett readies a ten-dollar note.

"Yours is around 9." is Eddy's simple reply, taking the note in his hand. He quickly pays for the both of them. After the transaction, Eddy balances the tray of pastries as they approach their regular table.

They strike up a conversation after that. They talk about Hilary's new post on her 100 Days of Practice challenge, their next trip to Taiwan, a weird exchange Brett had with a fan over on Instagram. When the coffee arrives, Eddy notices how Brett visibly relaxes- how his shoulders droop and his brows unfurl from the tension built up before. A single sip of the Cafe au Lait seems to do the trick of relaxing Brett enough.

"Oh, we should try to get massages and play the violin at the same time!"

"Hell no, I'm too sensitive. You know that."

It was just like a regular day.

But Eddy knew better.

"Hey Brett," he started. Brett looked up at him from chomping on a bite of his cinnamon roll. His eyes are partially covered by his hair. _He looks so innocent._ "Are you sure you're okay? You've been looking weird lately."

Eddy notices how Brett stiffens.

"'m okay, I swear. Phlegm has been a pain in the ass." Brett offers him a small reassuring smile. "I might have gotten a bug, y'know." He returns to carefully slicing off another piece of the sugary pastry.

"Okay." Eddy lets it go. "But tell me if you're feeling bad, bro? I don't want to have one of those things happen again."

Brett chuckles, pressing the white cup filled with human fuel against his lips for a nice long chug. "I will."

Seeing Brett in this state helps Eddy to relax as well. He leans back on the chair, realizing that his own shoulders have tensed up from worrying. He palms his phone and goes through some of the local news articles.

_Nothing exciting._ Eddy laments.

... Prices hit a Devastating Low After Ten Years...

... Cricket Team Wins a Series Title...

... on Medication for Patients with Hanahaki Disease...

... Road Accident...

_Wait, Hanahaki Disease?_ Eddy clicks the article.

_A new medication has been imported from international health departments which aids in minimizing the effects of the elusive Hanahaki Disease- a rare disease believed to be a physiologial response to unrequited love. It only affects about 0.5% of the general world population. It is now under final stages of release and distribution to health centers all over the country. It will be available for administration by June of 2019..._  
_ _... and patients who wish to avail of this medication must be directly prescribed by a liscensed physician._ _

Eddy knows that Hanahaki is a thing. It was rare, of course, not everyone who had ever had unrequited love ever experienced the disease. Case in point, his crush on Abbey from high school. He was head over heels, he admits, but nothing truly happened, even when Abbey got a boyfriend and it crushed Eddy's spirit.

"Yo," Eddy tilts his phone towards Brett for him to read. "Look, Hanahaki disease is making its way around the news again."

Eddy half-expected Brett to react, but his face remains as stiff and as deadpan as he would be at hearing a terrible viola joke.

"Ah," is Brett's response. Nothing more. He reads the headline really quickly, but he quickly looks away. Those glasses-framed eyes chase back to his own phone.

"You're not interested in this stuff, are you?" Eddy shrugs, exiting from the webpage to go to Instagram. He sees that the TwoSetViolin instagram story was just updated. He clicks on it to see himself from the view where Brett is sitting.

_Coffee _is the text right at the bottom of the photo. Eddy smiles, opening up the Instagram story for himself, snapping a photo of Brett.

"It's not that I'm not interested," admits Brett after a small pause. "I guess it just doesn't affect me?" He says, eyes still glued to his phone.

Eddy simply hums in reply. He writes 'payback' and adds it to the Instagram story.  
  


Brett's heart is pumping at 15 notes a second. _Does Eddy know? Oh god, does he know?!_

He immediately pulls up the news article Eddy showed him. Quickly browsing over the article, he makes a mental note to visit Dr. Jane for these medications. A text later, he has an appointment with her next week for a checkup if he is all clear to take the medicine.

_It doesn't nullify the effects, but it makes the coughing less frequent and painful. _Brett notes.

He forgets how long he's had Hanahaki. It feels like forever since he fell in love with Eddy.

Eddy...

Eddy, whose eyes crinkled whenever he laughed, his hair which shone under the bright lights of the city, whose hands played such beautiful melodies.

Brett fell in love with those things and more all at once.

Sometimes he wishes he never fell in love in the first place.

But he thinks that not falling in love with Eddy Chen meant never meeting him in the first place.

Peeking from underneath the bangs falling over his face, he sees Eddy smiling at his phone.

_I know Eddy doesn't feel the same. He's happy even without me._

**\---**

They exit the coffee shop and decide to head over to the local park, only a few blocks away. The sun is beginning to set, its vibrant yellow transitioning to dangerous reds. The two of them walk side by side, until Eddy pauses mid-step.

"Eddy?" Brett walks a few steps before realizing that Eddy isn't behind him. A gust of wind pushes some of Brett's hair towards his face, and he brings a hand up to tuck them away behind his ear.

He turns his back and is met by Eddy's phone facing towards him. Eddy soon peeks from behind his outstretched arm to smile at Brett. "For the 'gram."

"Lemme see!" Brett comes in close, looking at the photo Eddy just took.

It's a decent photo; with Brett slightly tilted towards the camera, but mostly looking away, his hair flowy under the golden rays of the sun. His eyes are downcast while in mid-turn, the leaves brushing each other with the wind's light sweep.

"Pretty, bro." Eddy smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle with the movement, a slight tinge of pink stains his cheeks. It's a smile usually reserved for very special moments, Brett has seen this smile more than anyone else in Eddy's life. It's a smile that Brett knows all too well.

Brett is mesmerised.

He forgets to breathe, his entire gaze focused on his best friend.

_I'm so in love with you._

Brett thinks briefly before he feels the familiar itching in his throat.

He coughs.

And he feels another thick mass of petals fight through his airways.

Brett hunches over, clutching at his throat. He uses another hand to cover his mouth.

"Dude!" He hears Eddy come up over him, placing a reassuring hand over his back. "Woah, Brett, bro you're coughing like mad."

Brett barely registers what Eddy has said. He feels it in his palm, the soft feeling of petals drenched in what he knows is his own blood. He reluctantly meets Eddy's eyes.

"I have to go," Brett says in a rush. He knows his words are slurred, even so, he stands up all too quickly, taking a few steps in preparation to run away from Eddy as fast as he possibly can. "I'll be at home, I'm _fine _I promise." He spits out and dashes out the way they came.

"Brett!"

But before Eddy knows it, Brett is gone.

He stares at the after-image of his best friend escaping from the park's front gates.

The taller violinist doesn't know how long he's been standing there.

He snaps out of his trance, reminding himself to get home before he freezes over.

As he readily takes a step forward, he notices something on the ground.

Crouching down, Eddy reaches forward to pick it up.

It's a flower.

_Understandable. It's a park, alright. _He twirls the small flower in his hand before continuing his walk home.

_Brett has been lying to me. Something is definitely wrong._  
  


It isn't until Eddy arrives home, the flower still in his hand, that he realizes that orchids didn't grow in the local park.

And that orchids didn't come in this pale blue colour.

And that orchids weren't slightly stained with what looked like blood.

**\---**

**[end] part i. sonata**


	2. ii. adagio

Brett is breathing heavily, shutting the door behind him almost angrily.

He sets his violin case down on the floor carefully. On the contrary, he thumps dangerously against the door, the back of his head leaning against the wooden frame. A hand reaches up to feel around his mouth. He feels a petal right by his tongue, and he disgustingly spits it out.

A bit of blood comes up from the action, but Brett has been desensitised enough to not flinch at the sight.

"Fuck!" He yells out to his empty apartment.

\---

Brett couldn't remember when it started.

What he could remember though, was that the flowers started as small, innocent petals.

_The Busking Marathon for the World Tour was nearing its end. Both musicians felt the ache and stress from holding their instruments endlessly for the past four days. Eddy rotated his neck for a stretch as it angrily creaked back at him._

_"What note was that, dude?" Brett commented, his eyes threatening to shut for a nap. He bundled up his sleeping bag, cradling it over his chest._

_"I don't care." Eddy groaned. "Whatever note can be played at midnight, I guess."_

_The silence was welcome, yet unwanted. After spending the last few days on the streets, promoting their kickstarter campaign, sometimes a moment away from the bustling city streets and the melodies from their violins was a breath of fresh air._

_But they were so close._

_So close to the world tour dream they were after._

_They continued walking._

_Eddy reluctantly pulled out his phone from his pocket. 00:43. The time did nothing to soothe the anxiety and grogginess. Only a few thousand dollars are left..._

_Brett shuffled his phone out of his pocket, immediately opening up Facebook, looking towards livestreaming these (possible) last few moments of the campaign live on camera._

_"That looks creepy as hell, man." Brett said, looking over at Eddy's ominously lit face._

_"We need to find the place-" announced the younger violinist, refreshing the page for the kickstarter._

_Brett stammered before replying, "It's cold as hell here." He looked back down at his phone, where Facebook Live was recording. His eyes were starting to droop. "Hey there guys, we got disconnected. Oh- hello everyone. Are we there?" He directed his last question to Eddy, who was earnestly looking at his phone._

_"This is so exciting-"_

_"Guys we're so close-"_

_Eddy let out a large gasp. "We made it!"_

_Brett paused. "Are you serious?!" He leaned over towards his partner. "No way!"_  
  


Brett forgets how their conversation goes after that line.

What he does remember is:  
  


_The two of them look spaced out, their faces agape in pure excitement and joy. Brett, in an instant, remembers that they're recording. He felt Eddy's arm wrap around closely against his shoulders._

_"WE GOT IT!!" The two of them began to yell._

_Brett started shaking from all the excitement, while Eddy tried shushing him. Brett said something about running, his nerves all dancing from the newfound adrenaline. He remembered that they didn't have to sleep in their lonely little tunnel near the park anymore._

_His eyes threatened to pour over with tears._  
  


Brett remembers running, seeing off the little tunnel.

He remembers Eddy right by his side the entire time.  
  


_Eddy continued to talk about their plans for both sleeping in a decent bed for once as well as filming the video thanking all of their fans for the endless support._

_"We did it." Brett announced, like he hadn't said it more than ten times before. Everything just felt so surreal._

_"I want to cry," chuckled Eddy, choked up and overwhelmed by all the emotions. He sniffled._

_"We did it..." Brett. Again. "I'm on like- the verge of tears, this is ridiculous-"_

_Brett was cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around his entire torso. The warmth spread throughout his entire body, driving more of the adrenaline to kick in. "Ah- bro hug."_

_Right at his ear, he heard Eddy's small breaths and sniffles as he cries in relief._

_Brett did the same._

_With his own arms around his best friend, "Thank you, man." He patted the back of the guy who shouldered and bore the same worries and moments with him over the past few years._

_A few tears begun to escape._

_Brett forgot to turn off his filter._

_"I love you, Eddy." Brett smiled, his arms wounded up even tighter against Eddy. His own heart clenched, filled with every emotion under the stars; gratitude, love, happiness, everything. He closed his eyes, thinking to himself._

**I would do absolutely anything for this man.**

_"I love you too," _ _Eddy mumbled in reply, small enough for the little phone to barely hear. Before he let go, he faced towards the phone Brett was holding._

_"I love you guys so much."_

_"I can't believe this is- oh my god."_  
  
  
  


Brett remembers that it was 1AM.

It was a lonely, cold night in Australia.

But he remembers it as one of the best nights of his life.

\---  
  


Brett does remember waking up in the morning, on the couch of a friend who lived nearby.

His own frame pressed against Eddy's.

And the uncomfortable feeling of coughing.  
  


He cleared his throat as the coughing subsided.

_It's nothing. _He assured himself.

But when he peeked over at his palm,

encased within it was a single pale blue orchid petal,

and he forgot to breathe.

\---

Present day Brett drops to the floor, hugging his knees. He feels the vibration of his phone, never hearing it, his mind warped into a psychedelic state. With obvious reluctance, he checks it, the light blinding him in the dark shadow of his apartment.

**Eddy | 18:03  
** _Call me when you're feeling better._

Brett feels himself choke up. _Too many emotions, _he thinks.

Without much thought, he picks himself off the ground (violin case and all) and walks slowly to his bedroom. In the process, disposing of the repulsive petal in his hand.

_It's gonna be another shit night._

When he falls asleep from all the exhaustion in his system, only a few minutes later, he fails to see a text from someone he didn't expect to hear from in a long while.

**Dr. Jane | 18:21**  
_Brett, we may have to have your check up earlier._

\---

**[end] part ii. adagio**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading symphony. i'd love to know what you guys think of the story as well as any suggestions for how i'd finish this. i have a general outline for how i want this story to end, but i'm open to change things up.  
two more chapters left, i hope you will stick around for the end of the journey.
> 
> i drew art for this chapter , but it's pretty messy. i'll do my best to redo it in the future hehe;;; you can find it on my instagram: @dcm_chloe


	3. iii. minuet and trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: hello again, symphony is back. this is a really long part (like very), the pace might be kinda slow ((sorry)) but i truly hope that you will enjoy it.

Brett wakes up the next day with his heart in a rapid chokehold. Like any other person, the first thing he checks is his phone. The early morning sunrise's light peeks through the blinds, its warmth slowly creeping in. Brett's face is half buried in his futon, his phone hovering dangerously above him.

**[3 MISSED CALLS, 6 MESSAGES]**

The three calls were all from Eddy. The messages, though mostly from Eddy, also hold another important sender in the headline. He decides to read Dr. Jane's message last.

**Eddy | 19:02  
** _Are u sleeping?_

**Eddy | 19:04  
** _Ok u might be_

**Eddy | 19:05  
** _Call when u wake up toms_

**Eddy | 20:48  
** _pls tell me if i did something wrong_

He feels guilt rise up from the bottom of his stomach. _I made Eddy worry._ He quickly types out a message saying that he's alright, and that Eddy didn't do anything wrong. A nasty feeling rises up his throat as he remembers that he should probably check the text Dr. Jane sent him.

**Dr. Jane | 18:21  
** _Brett, we may have to have your check up earlier._

**Dr. Jane | 18:25  
** _I've been cleared to distribute my batch of medication to patients. I was thinking that you would be interested in trying it out soon, I know that you're still pretty hesitant with having the surgery. It would be of best interest that you are given this medication earlier for your body to be used to it._

He takes a few minutes to process the information. The early morning grogginess catching up with his system. _I need coffee, _Brett contemplates getting up before his phone starts pinging rapidly. He's gotten numerous replies and mentions from the TSV instagram story yesterday.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Brett sits up, his toes barely on the cold floor. After reaching from his bedside table, he puts on his glasses, the cold plastic making him shiver. He grabs the blanket he was wrapped in just a moment prior and wraps it around his shoulders before trudging over to the kitchen space.

Muscle memory brews his early morning cup of coffee, reaching over drawers and shelves to get to the mug, the coffee grounds, and the small bottles of cream and sugar. As the familiar sound of his coffee machine hums in the corner, he leans against the counter-top, stuck on the messaging screen. It takes him more than a few minutes to complete his message.

**Brett | 07:42  
** _Good morning, sorry for the late reply. Is tomorrow at 10 okay?_

He inhales deeply as the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee fills his apartment. Brett's mug slowly fills with the piping hot liquid and he carefully mixes it up with his favoured blend of cream and sugar. He pulls the mug up to his face, relishing in the warmth.

His cold breath ghosting over the surface, he sees the steam rise up and fog against his glasses. One tentative sip later, another _ping _from his phone starts to echo around the cold room. He hugs the blanket a bit tighter.

**Eddy | 07:49  
** _Hey we still down for that livestream tomorrow?_

It's only then when Brett remembers that they were supposed to do a livestream tomorrow.

He bites his lip in thought.

_Ping_.

**Dr. Jane | 07:49  
** _Ok, I'll see you tomorrow, Brett._

_Ah, shit. _Brett thinks.

**\---**

Eddy just finishes his early morning walking session with his treadmill when Brett replies.

**Brett | 07:51  
** _I have an appointment with the doc tomorrow_

**Brett | 07:52  
** _if it's alright with you we'll do it in the afternoon instead?_

_A doctor's appointment? _Eddy rereads the text a few times before he thinks of replying. He flops down on the couch, his brow dripping in sweat. He tugs the bottom of his shirt towards his face and carelessly wipes against his forehead. With his vision cleared, he types out a reply.

**Eddy | 07:53  
**Gotcha, i'll post an update.

A few moments later, he posts on Facebook regarding their new schedule for the livestream tomorrow. The two of them were supposed to be playing more of the 40 Kachikawawa Caprices.

"So you really are sick, huh?" Eddy thinks back on Brett coughing out his left lung in front of him at the park yesterday.

At the memory of Brett, he remembers the orchid flower he picked up from the park.

_Orchids don't grow in the park, I know they don't. _Eddy looks at the coffee table where he placed the already wilting flower. Its original pale blue now a turning to lifeless grey. _I would know, they're my favourite flower._

His brow only furrows further when he remembers how odd Brett has been acting lately.

He remembers the text Brett sent him this morning, the cold screen doing nothing to soothe his thoughts.

**Brett | 07:22  
** _i'm okay, you didn't do anything wrong_

**Brett | 07:23  
** _I'm sorry_

The cryptid messages did nothing to ease Eddy's worry. He was sure of it now, though, that Brett was definitely avoiding him. Not just avoiding his gaze, but avoiding being with Eddy. In hindsight, he understood if Brett would just want some time alone, but lately it has felt less of Brett wanting alone time and more of just Brett not wanting Eddy near him.

It didn't help that he was still puzzled over the orchid from last night.

Eddy sighs, his limbs dropping down on the couch with an oof. He rests his head against the back of the couch. He stares up at the ceiling, his brain conjuring several absurd situations to explain his best friend's weird behaviour.

_Why would Brett be avoiding me?_

He thought about it for a while before his brain started hurting.

"A shower would be good." He announces to the ceiling before making his way to the bathroom.

The tiled room provides the perfect acoustics. His phone is blasting Sibelius as he steps into the slowly heating chamber.

_Brett's been sick, _He dunks his head under the shower, the warm water dripping from his head down his back. _He wasn't lying about that._

He takes a step back. He hears a swell in a change of color within the symphony playing from his phone. An eye peeks open as he grabs the shampoo bottle and pours some of it into his palms.

_Does he have some kind of life threatening disease?_

He scrubs his head aggressively, _No, Brett would tell me if he did._

Another wave of water rolls down from the shower. _He would tell me, right?_

_I mean he's already going to the doctor's, he should be fine if that's the case._

Soap suds make their way down the drain. Eddy decides to think about why Brett would want to be alone.

_I would think I'm more introverted than him... _He grabs the body wash and starts scrubbing his skin.

He stands under the running water as another thought hits him.

A cymbal smacks loudly.

_Does Brett have a girlfriend?!_

Damn Sibelius.

He opens his eyes. _Does he?_

Eddy thinks back to his short interactions with Brett outside of recording. The times when it would be the two of them going to a cafe by the corner, or them walking home from filming something in public, or even just going out for a meal. Brett was usually on his phone, Eddy assumed it was Instagram or looking at some funny meme on the subreddit. It occurs to Eddy that often times, Brett would have a smile on his face. It was a smile different to that he would have when he was in a rhythm playing a particularly hard piece or the wide smile he would have while seeing an old friend or even the smile which accompanied Brett's boisterous laughter.

He wondered what Brett would have on his phone that would warrant such a smile.

A smile that was soft, making Brett's features loosen; his eyes would narrow and his cheeks would puff up. His eyebrows rose up slightly, and high up on his cheeks would be the slightest tinge of pink, and his mouth would curl up cutely. It wasn't a huge smile by any means, but it was filled with as much emotion as any other smile Brett had. Gone was the deadpan face, and in came the cheeky child-like grin.

Eddy pauses, remembering the action on the other man's face.

_Has Brett been in love with someone this whole time?_

He shuts off the faucet and steps out of the shower, his body reaching for the towel before he knows it. Rubbing off the excess water on his skin, he peeks at himself in the mirror.

_Why didn't he tell me?_ Eddy wonders.

The Sibelius piece stops and Eddy is left to stand in his bathroom in near-complete silence, only a few drops left from the faucet to fill the room with sound.

In a daze, still stunned from the massive mind-fuck session he's had, his body remains in auto-pilot while he changes into comfortable clothes. He settles for a loose pair of sweats and a black tee. His body is telling him to go to the kitchen to make a sandwich, which he does, still stuck in a dream-like state.

_... sick Brett... lovestruck Brett..._

Eddy has Brett stuck in his head for the whole time he sits at the lonely dining table, munching away at his sandwich. His phone is being uselessly spun in his other hand.

_... sick... in love..._

_... lovesick..._

_... love... sick..._

_...disease..._

His mind automatically replays the cymbal he heard earlier.

_A lovesick disease?_

When Eddy makes the connection from all the worrying to the epiphany he just had in the shower, he audibly gasps to himself.

_Brett can't have..._

Before he completes the thought, he's already searching for physicians in the local area who aid patients with Hanahaki Disease.

**\---**

Brett wakes up the next day at 8. Later than he would usually be up, but he was busy last night editing some videos and curating some posts on the TwoSet website. A coffee and a half later, he's stuffed in his cozy violin/a sweatshirt and carefully locking up his apartment. A last minute pat of his pockets assures him that he's got his phone with him, and after finally checking his violin case, he sets out for Dr. Jane's office.

_I'm way too early, _Brett thinks as he presses the elevator button. _I should grab breakfast._

There is a nice warmth when he finally leaves the cool building and steps out into the pavement. He sets a smooth pace, his airpods are on and Ravel is echoing dark piano notes into his ear.

His and Eddy's favourite cafe is open at this hour, so he decides to head over there for a meal.

When he arrives, he scans the area. Brett isn't sure what he expects to see.

Arriving at the counter, he offers a lazy smile while ordering a nice breakfast and yet another cup of coffee. (This time it has less espresso.) Ravel continues to build up the dark ambiance in his eardrums as he brings his tray over to his usual spot, even sitting on his side. He gently sets his violin case against the chair in front of him.

He looks out over to the harbour, where the waves are calm and the civilians are doing their individual morning routines. He brings the cup of coffee over for a long sip. Some people were jogging, others were pushing baby strollers, and few were in their business attire, dragging along suitcases while their ears were pressed against their phones.

He eats with a gusto he didn't have yesterday.

There's something that relaxes him about going over to Dr. Jane's office. He has been in her care for as long as Brett can remember. And while a doctors' appointment would usually upset someone, it was nice to know that he was in good hands with Dr. Jane.

When his plate is scraped clean of his breakfast and the white ceramic cup looks lonely, Brett checks the time and decides to head out to the office.

Once again, he sets a relaxed pace as he makes the trek to Dr. Jane's office. Debussy's Reverie fills his head as he relaxes into the music. Oddly enough, he feels like it matches his mood pretty accurately. The warmth it gives soothes him, but there are moments of colourful swells and dissonance which remind him of the current turmoil simmering in the back of his mind.

Before he knows it, he's walked over ten blocks and is now standing in front of Hope Clinic. He breathes steadily to calm his nerves before pushing through the glass doors to enter the clinic.

At the reception, a young woman with wavy brown hair eyes him from behind the desk. "Good morning, what can we do for you today?"

Brett pulls out a single airpod as he replies, "I'm here for Dr. Campbell, I'm Brett Yang."

She ducks down to type something on the desktop in front of her before she reappears before his line of sight. "She's in her office, just down the hall, fifth door on the right."

"Thank you," Brett nods as he enters the long, white hallway. Some nurses and patients pass him as he arrives in front of Dr. Jane's office. The small bench beneath her nameplate is empty, but the sign tells him that she is inside. He pulls off his other earbud as he straightens his clothing and pats himself from invisible dust.

_Now or never, Yang. _He chastises as he knocks on the brown door.

"Come in," He hears the doctor's voice. His hands turn the knob and he steps into the cozy office.

"Good morning Brett!" Dr. Jane seems like a mean person upfront, but her tone as light and airy. It's a complete contrast from how she texts. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her sleeves are professionally folded into the cleft of her elbows. She gives him a reassuring smile. "How are you today?"

"I'm good," Brett offers a gentle smile. "How about you?"

"Great." She gestures to the seat in front of her table. "I'd love for us to chat a bit, y'know, especially with the youtube channel you're running, but I have a last minute appointment at 10:30."

"No, no, it's fine."

"Okay then, let's get to it."

She asks a few questions regarding his symptoms.

"I had two attacks yesterday," At Brett's words, Dr. Jane lets out a small gasp. "I'm afraid it's getting worse."

She writes something down on his file before saying, "Your feelings are getting stronger?"

_I've been in love with Eddy Chen since forever. _Brett shakes his head. "No, I don't think they are. It's always been like this."

Dr. Jane performs a small physical on him, gently placing her stethoscope by his back. He's used to this procedure. He's done it once every month. She pulls out an MRI of Brett from three months ago. Brett's eyes look at the blue-ish gray light lines and frowns.

There really were those motherfuckers in his lungs, huh.

"You still haven't told anyone, have you, Brett?"

"... No." Brett sighs, his shoulders slumping. "My family doesn't know, even my best friend in the whole wide world doesn't know."

"I see," Dr. Jane nods in acknowledgement. As much as she knew Brett had Hanahaki, she didn't know _who _he had those feelings for. "As much as I do encourage my patients to at least tell one person, it's ultimately up to them to decide whether they will admit it. I only ever reveal a patient's condition without their consent if it truly cannot be helped."

Brett purses his lips.

"Your condition over the past year hasn't shown signs of rapid development, but you've been known to be stuck in what we call Stage 2, which makes your case optimal for the medicine. It's a bit concerning that you just got those two attacks, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I think you're clear for the medication, Brett." Dr. Jane pulls out a pad of her prescriptions and scribbles in it, writing characteristic of a doctor. "You need to take the medication every other day in the morning. And I'll be expecting you back in the office in two weeks to check on your condition. Oh and have another MRI scan while you're at it, just bring it to me when you come back."

"If anything else happens, or if you can get that MRI scan earlier, don't hesitate to call me or drop by the clinic, okay?" She rips out the sheet of paper and signs off her name at the bottom. She then pulls out a box with long medical terms and names he couldn't pronounce if he tried. "I wish you all the best, Brett."

The 20 minutes he spends in the office are like a breeze. "Thank you,"

"Let's have dinner sometime, yeah? I'd love to hear all about your new tour."

With a nod, Brett exits the office and beelines away from the clinic.

He checks his phone. _10:23, _still pretty early.

He and Eddy agreed to meet at 11 at an Asian restaurant only a few paces away from the clinic for an early lunch before the livestream.

_Oh well, Eddy won't mind me heading over there early. Not that I have anything better to do._

The glasses-clad musician knows the location of the restaurant by heart, after all the many sessions of eating there with his best friend.

_This means I can answer some e-mails._

Brett mindlessly thinks about work.

He continues walking.

He doesn't notice Eddy Chen in the corner of the lobby when he leaves.

**\---**

Eddy had a pretty okay morning. Routine, standard. Heading toward the gym for a quick run (a walk if he's feeling out of it), a coffee, and a few times fiddling with his violin or with the rickety keyboard. He knew that he had to be out and about by 10, as he had an appointment with Dr. Campbell.

Last night, after a quick google search, he found Dr. Campbell's page.

_Licensed Physician for Patients with Hanahaki Disease_ it said.

That's why when he sees Brett Yang (the one and only) exit Dr. Campbell's office just as he rounds the hall, he bolts back to the lobby and hides his face behind a magazine. He peers at Brett's passing figure with a softened, yet shocked gaze.

_You've been struggling alone for god knows how long, _Eddy watches his back as he pushes the door open and leaves. _I want to help you, Brett. So why didn't you tell me?_

Brett leaves his line of sight and Eddy remembers that he still has to go into the office.

A small knock on the door announces his presence. A muffled voice tells him to enter, which he does.

"Good morning, Mr. Chen." The blonde doctor greets with a dazzling smile. She stands and extends his hand out to him. "I'm Jane Campbell. How are you today?"

"Good morning," He takes her hand in his and shakes it. Eddy breathes in deeply. They both take a seat. "I'm good, just- good."

"Great, let's get to the matter at hand, shall we?"

Eddy nods. He's always been cautious around doctors.

"So you're here not because _you _have Hanahaki but you want to know more about it for a friend of yours?"

"Yes." Eddy thinks back on Brett, his slumped shoulders, as he bowed over the sink. "He's been hiding it from me. I just really want to know more because- I just- I- god, I really want to help him."

The frown on Eddy's face deepens.

"I understand." Dr. Campbell's face morphs into a concerned expression. "You're doing a good job as it is looking out for him... Do you know or possibly have an idea of who he's in love with?"

_I don't know. _Eddy stiffens. _Holy shit- I actually don't know. Who could it be?_

"I don't."

"That's fair," Dr. Campbell suddenly stands and walks over to one side of the office, where several pamphlets were propped against a glass frame. She spends a few moments simply picking out some of them. "Well, for starters, how much do you know about Hanahaki, Mr. Chen?"

Eddy thinks for a bit. "I just know that it's a disease where you puke out flowers when you love someone and they don't love you back."

Dr. Campbell still has her back to him but nods all the same. "Close, but you should remember that we're talking about romantic love, Mr. Chen. If you feel platonic love for someone, it doesn't constitute Hanahaki disease."

She returns to her desk chair and lays out the pamphlets in front of Eddy.

"From what we know, it's a physiological response to human psychology. It comes in Stages which we determine by the form of the flowers which the patient expels. It gets worse over time, and may also be accelerated if the feelings one experiences increase." She opens up one of the pamphlets to illustrate. "The preliminary stage is characterised mostly by coughing, no petals or flowers. The first stage is when the patient has irregular moments of coughing up single petals. The second is when the patient starts to cough up two or three groups of petals, or approximately half of the flower. This happens more frequently over time.

On the pamphlet, there are five boxes, all of them cutely illustrating exactly what she was saying. There is a brown-haired character they drew to illustrate the level of severity. The character's expression progressively getting more and more hurt.

"The third stage is when the patient starts coughing up entire flowers. This is usually the stage where we highly recommend patients to get surgery."

The last photo shows the same brown-haired character whose lungs were entirely filled to the brim with flowers.

"And the final, most fatal stage is when the lungs are completely filled with the flowers." Eddy doesn't stop staring at the photo. "We take patients to the ER at this stage... but..." The dreadful words are left unsaid.

Dr. Campbell closes the pamphlet. "With our technology, surgery is possible, but that would mean the person would never fall in love with the same person ever again."

Eddy is left speechless, his head looking down at his hands. They're tense and clenched up on his lap.

_What stage is Brett on? Oh god what if-_

"Do you have any questions Mr. Chen?"

Eddy snaps back into the conversation, his head jumping up to look at the Doctor.

"Is there any other way to get rid of the disease?"

"Other than surgery," She remains silent for a few moments. "It's really only able to go away if the person you're in love with returns those romantic feelings."

Eddy barely remembers the rest of their conversation.

The last line Dr. Campbell says to him echoes in his mind. He remembers thanking her for the information and taking one of the pamphlets into his bag. He shuffles to the door of the clinic, his head filled with information he is unable to process.

A ping from his phone snaps him out of his thoughts.

**Brett | 11:02  
** _I'm here at the resto. see u_

Eddy, heavy heart and all, types out a reply.

**Eddy | 11:04  
** _going, see u there_

**\---**

The sun begins to set outside of Eddy's apartment window.

"Don't forget to like and subscribe! We'll see you guys soon."

The two of them say goodbye to the livestream audience and turn off the camera. Eddy knows he was faking most of the energy he was having today. His worry and concern over the man sitting next to him was eating away at his rational thinking (and during the livestream, his violin playing). Brett was acting like his normal self, going through a lot of the harder bars of the music with ease.

Brett knew better, and after knowing (and having been in love with) Eddy for over half of his life, he knew there was something up with his younger partner.

"Eddy, dude," Brett starts, facing away from Eddy and carefully folding up one of the studio lights. He's kneeling on the floor, stuffing the light into a bag. "Are you alright?"

Eddy, who was supposed to be putting away the microphone is at a standstill. Eddy snaps out of his thoughts for what feels like the tenth time today.

The words don't seem to come out.

The silence lingers.

Brett looks up from putting away the light. "Dude, Eddy?"

Their eyes meet.

Eddy stares back at him.

"You've been hiding something from me." Eddy announces.

Brett's heart stops beating.

"What?" He barely manages to get the word out.

"I know you, bro." The younger musician stands up, his figure looming over Brett.

_Fuck._ Brett feels like crawling and merging with the tiled floor. _Fuck, Eddy knows._

"..." The taller kneels quickly, his knees meeting the floor with a soft thud. He sits in front of Brett, eyes softening and pleading. "Please, just tell me..."

Eddy meets Brett's eyes directly, looking directly at his soul.

"Brett-"

The older musician suddenly remembers the proximity between them. Eddy is so close, close enough to feel his warm breath around the edges of his jaw. In an instant, Eddy grasps Brett's hand.

"I won't judge you, I promise."

Brett looks into Eddy's eyes, feeling the familiar pooling of weight in the back of his throat as well as the choked up emotion building up, threatening his tears to pour. _I'm so sorry for hiding it from you. I'm sorry I made you worry. I'm sorry- I'm so sorry-_

_I'm so sorry for falling in love with you._

He doesn't know what comes first: the coughing or the tears.

Too many things are happening all at once.

Eddy hears Brett coughing, and he sees it.

The half orchid pouring from the other's lips onto the porcelain floor.

And it continues.

Three more halves come up from Brett's system.

Eddy rushes to pat Brett gently on the back, occasionally rubbing. He's trying to calm Brett down, saying sweet nothings to his ear. "It's okay, it's okay, Brett. You're going to be okay. Breathe for a while, 'kay?"

After a few gentle encouragements, Brett stops coughing, but another heartbreaking sound escapes him.

It's a worn out sob.

"I'm-" Brett hiccups, "sorr- i'm sorry, Eddy, I'm so sorry, Eddy," He repeats the lines over and over like a mantra, saying Eddy's name _over _and _over _again.

Eddy feels the wave of emotions escaping from Brett's shoulders. Brett at this point has crawled over to the corner, his body shaking and small. With a heavy heart, Eddy takes a seat beside him and lays the crying man's face on his shoulder, propping an arm around his to gently rub at his shoulders.

"It's okay, Brett, you're okay."

They stay there for what feels like an eternity.

The night brings with it a cool breeze.

Brett and Eddy are still sat on the floor, their backs against the wall, and Brett's head resting on Eddy's shoulder. His crying has been reduced to mild sniffles.

"Are you okay now?" Eddy eyes the far end of the wall, unable to look at the man beside him without being overwhelmed by his own emotions of guilt and sadness.

Brett simply nods in reply.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Brett pauses.

"You don't have to if you won't want to." Eddy assures, his hand reaching around Brett to rub at his shoulder.

"... It hurts," Brett says simply.

Eddy feels his heart clench at the words.

"How long have you had it?"

"A lil' more than a year, I think." No, Brett doesn't think, he _knows_.

Eddy tries to think about who they met around the time for Brett to have been in love with.

"Do I know who...?" Eddy trails off.

Brett, whose gaze was fixed on the insulting petals in front of them, looks away, eyeing the window and the moonlight peeking through the panes of glass. "... yes."

Eddy continues thinking.

He won't push Brett into saying who it is.

He will continue to support and help Brett regardless of who it is.

He will push Brett to do anything to get better.

Eddy doesn't stop thinking.

Even when he tells Brett that he will take him home, even when he sees Brett slowly wave from the lobby, even when he arrives back home and lies on his bed.

The thought of Brett being in love with him never even occurs to him.

**\---**

**[end] part iii. minuet and trio**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> endnote: thank you again for reading symphony, i hope you enjoyed it. i didn't really like this part, but i'll make it up to y'all i promise. if you guys like my art, you can follow me on instagram, dcm_chloe
> 
> I'd love to hear how you guys want this story to end! will eddy return brett's feelings, will brett have to succumb to the surgery, will brett *gasp* die? i wonder how it will end as well haha.
> 
> the last chapter is on its way.


	4. iv. allegro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: the finale is here! hope you enjoy it.

\---

The notion of who Brett could be in love with gnaws at Eddy every single day after the night they spent in Eddy's apartment.

Brett is a bit more open after that, but not to the point where he is able to tell Eddy everything. He tells Eddy if he's feeling uncomfortable, and sometimes Eddy goes to remind him of his medication every other day. Even their trip to Taiwan goes smoothly, shooting some videos here and there, going and having bubble tea at every opportunity, occasionally busking. Brett makes a bit more eye contact with him, making more jokes, and ultimately, being happier along with Eddy.

Eddy feels like he's back in Brett's loop again.

Except when he feels like he isn't.

The flight back to Australia, the entire seven or so hours, cooped up in a bus in the sky should've been okay, seeing as how Brett was acting during the flight _to _Taiwan. Eddy couldn't help but worry, but Brett assured him that it would be okay.

It was _okay_, at the beginning, at least.

"Gonna get some shut eye?" Eddy asks, looking at the man beside him, who was busy tucking in his violin into the compartment above him. "We get there by morning, right?"

They were on the last flight, the orange overhead lights of the airport making Eddy feel warmer than he probably should be, considering the crisp late night air.

"Maybe," Brett shrugs, falling into the middle seat, Eddy sat at the window seat, very ordinary for them. "Might buy some WiFi and answer some emails, go on instagram, or something."

"You should go and sleep," Eddy scolds him. "Don't wanna have jetlag, now. We get there at like 6."

"Yeah, yeah," Brett opens his phone as he buckles his seatbelt. "I will, mom."

Eddy laughs before he hears the ping of the announcement system come to life. It's the standard welcome message, the message Eddy has memorized and could probably recite word for word. He drowns it out and pulls out his earphones to listen to some music.

The opening notes of Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto begin to echo in his ear. He looks as the city lights of Taiwan pass behind him. Brett leaning over him to take a small video of the plane taking off.

The flight takes off without a hitch.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brett shuffling with his pockets and with the small bag he brought with him. The older musician frowns as he pats his pockets once more. He looks towards Eddy, who meets his gaze.

"I forgot my earphones." Brett grumbles. "It must be in the overhead."

The seatbelt sign isn't switched off yet.

Eddy pulls out one of his earbuds. "Here,"

Brett stares. "Is it okay?"

"Well yeah, as long as you're okay with BTS coming straight after Sibelius." Eddy grins.

With a chuckle, Brett accepts the earbud and is welcomed with the sound of Sibelius. "Thank you,"

"No problem." Eddy smiles at him.

It's the same smile which made Brett fall in love with Eddy.

And Brett remembers that he has Hanahaki disease.

After three hours, Brett is still feeling a bit choked up from having to sit with the object of his unrequited love. He tried to distract himself by going online for an hour, but his biology was arguing with him. It didn't affect him that much during the first flight because of the excitement of going back to Taiwan. Now, with only the humid air of Australia to greet him, his mind continues to go towards Eddy every chance it has.

Eddy who Brett knows has been avoiding the question of who Brett was tragically in love with. Eddy who has respected Brett's boundaries for the past years and made no move to step over them even with his newfound curiosity. Eddy who Brett knows he's been keeping out of the loop with a lot of his personal worries and challenges.

The man in question is torn between sleeping and listening to his music, nodding off every few moments and jumping up as soon as he realizes that he has started to sleep. Brett didn't have the courage to stand up to grab his earphones from the overhead compartment as to not disturb the slowly snoozing man beside him.

"Dude, Eddy," Brett puts his hand on the other man's shoulder. He wants to remind Eddy that his travel pillow is right there dangling from tray handle. "Go to sleep, you look tired."

Eddy first looks at him with those dazed eyes before he digests what Brett has said.

"But _you're _not sleeping." Eddy states.

It takes a moment for Brett to realize what Eddy just said. Brett flushes, _Was he concerned about me?_

"Don't worry about me," Brett looks down in an attempt to hide his ever-pinking cheeks. (Not that there were many places to hide on the plane) "Just go to sleep."

Eddy yawns, looking around the plane to see that almost everyone else on the flight was dozing off. "Are you sure?"

Luckily, it didn't look like Eddy could see how much Brett was actually blushing. _Thank you for sleepy Eddy being dense Eddy._

"I'm sure." Brett declares and reaches over to grab Eddy's travel pillow. "Here."

Eddy mumbles something close to a 'thanks' before wrapping the pillow around his neck and leaning back to doze off. One earbud is on the brink of falling out of Eddy's ear, so Brett decides to pull it out, putting the other earbud in his own ear.

Brett is left alone with his thoughts again. He gently pats his cheeks, _Stop blushing!_

It does little to nothing to slow his ever beating heart. Brett leans back and closes his eyes, sighing heavily. _Damn you, Eddy Chen. How do I fall out of love with you?_

He's grateful that the medication he was prescribed actually helped him. Nowadays, he barely ever coughed up the flowers, even though they were usually together for most of the trip. There was only one time when Brett couldn't hold in the flowers, and it involved the events after shooting the massage video and Eddy was completely enjoying the massage, and the noises-

The flush on his cheeks returned.

_No, don't think about that, Brett!!_

He checks Eddy's phone, whose wallpaper is a photo of the Japanese Sakura, one they took while they were on tour. _It's nearly midnight. _The sound of Liszt still in his ears, he decides to put down Eddy's phone once the piece ends.

_I should sleep too._

He fumbles with his own pillow, and just as Brett was going to shut his eyes, he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He looks down and he sees Eddy's head carefully resting on his shoulder, soft snores coming from the other person's mouth. Brett feels his heart clench at the action.

He shuts his eyes tightly, praying that when he wakes up, the beating of his heart would slow.

Brett makes no move to push Eddy away.

Brett dreams of one Eddy Chen.

Eddy is roused from his sleep only two hours later, he feels his head thud continuously against what he assumes is Brett's shoulder.

Brett who was vigorously coughing.

"Brett!" Eddy quickly unbuckles his and Brett's seatbelt, lifting the man from his seat and ushering him out into the aisle. Brett has his hands around his throat and over his mouth all the while. "Dude, oh god, it's alright- let's go,"

Luckily the two of them were near the back side of the plane and the trek to the lavatory wasn't as tight as Eddy initially thought. He pushes Brett in as the glasses-clad musician stands in front of the sink. Eddy has the right mind to close the door behind Brett. But even through the cheap frame, he still hears Brett's strangled coughing.

Eddy leans against the door, his heart thumping dangerously against his chest. _Brett..._

Brett wasn't doing any better.

He feels the weight of several petals against the back of his tongue, as if condemning him for falling in love with his best friend. His dream involved him and Eddy _actually _falling in love, the stolen kisses between filming sessions, singing and playing duets and other pieces on the piano and the violin. All those things of fantasy which Brett could never have.

He stands in front of the sink and he immediately remembers that afternoon after filming a video when he nearly got caught by Eddy. The same dread washed over him, not because he was afraid Eddy would find out, but because he was terrified of having to succumb to his biology in the middle of a _fucking _flight.

He turns the faucet on and deftly spits out the blue orchid petals. He sees them before they go down the drain. _Shit! I'm on a plane!_

The realization makes him panic even more.

He views himself in the mirror, eyes bloodshot and red, hair messy, a single trail of blood dripping from his mouth down his neck. _Oh my god, _Brett starts panting, his vision going blurry and his hands beginning to shake. _Oh god people are gonna know, they're gonna hear me, they're going to look at me and judge me and think I'm a gross, lonely person, they're going to stare at me and and- and-_

_Knock knock_, came a sound from outside the lavatory doors.

Brett, in a daze, slowly turns toward the door.

"Brett, open up!" Eddy sounds panicked. "Brett!"

The voice immediately makes him stop.

His body goes on auto-pilot and opens the lock.

When his eyes meet Eddy's, he isn't prepared to be greeted with Eddy completely gushing over him and a set of arms grasping his shoulders lightly but securely.

"Brett, dude," breathes Eddy, using his right hand to roll up some tissue paper and quickly brush over Brett's face. "It's okay, you're alright, dude."

Brett didn't notice that he started crying. Fat, wet tears poured over his cheeks as he openly sobbed. "Eddy..."

"No, no, no," Eddy grabs another bundle of tissue to wipe at his tears. "Don't cry, Brett, it's okay..."

Eddy notes how Brett is still shaking.

"Brett, breathe with me, it's okay, I promise, you're okay."

Brett follows his instructions, albeit shakily. He sniffles and says in a croaky voice, "Eddy, they're gonna look at me-"

"No," Eddy looks straight into Brett's eyes. "Don't mind them, okay? You're the one that needs help, don't think about them."

Brett stares right back at him, his eyes still glistening with tears. "I'm sorr-"

"Don't be," cuts off Eddy, who quickly wraps his arms around his best friend. "I'm here for you alright?"

Brett melts into the hug.

He figures that his biology was working in favour of the medicine, because instead of making more flowers, his body relaxes at the close proximity he and Eddy are in.

He says a muffled _thank you_ against Eddy's shoulder, fully aware that his tears have soaked through Eddy's shirt. Eddy pats him on the back.

Eddy leaves Brett to tidy himself up, still having a mini case of the sniffles here and there. A flight attendant comes up behind Eddy and asks him if they're alright, to which Eddy assures that they were perfectly fine. She hands him a set of pocket tissues which Eddy thanks her for. A quick look at the cabin tells him that they haven't woken any of the other passengers up, which would surely make Brett worry a little less.

Brett leaves the lavatory and they both trudge back to their seats, Eddy grasping Brett's hand the entire way.

In a few minutes, Brett is passed out beside Eddy. His head resting against the younger man's shoulder, the complete opposite of their positions before. Eddy worries a bit more before shutting his own eyes and succumbing to the call of slumber.

\---

The next few days go on without any incident. Brett has been acting like he always has, and Eddy has been keeping his safe, respectable distance.

Things take a turn for the worst when they finish filming another episode of TwoSet Roast, where one of the girls in the show fawned over the violinist main character. It's another cringy, overly romantic depiction of violinists and the two of them take a bite at the show at every chance they can.

Brett knew it was Eddy's nature to act a bit like a flirt, especially if they were filming, but Brett's biology couldn't seem to tell the difference between the fulfillment of his fantasies and a joke.

"No girl has ever looked at me while I played the violin and been like,"

He hears Eddy's semi-silent laughter and feels the other's shoulder bump against his.

"_WoooOOOW_!"

Eddy recovers from his laughter, "Nah dude, I see you play all the time, you're just as handsome as these guys, plus with even better violin playing." He says between bursts of laughter.

Brett feels his heartbeat quicken at the words.

He swallows his pride and the petals down as he pushes himself to finish filming the episode.

Just as they're about to end the episode, Eddy suggests that they try to shoot a bit where Brett plays the violin while Eddy stands at the corner of the frame pretending to sneakily take photos of him. Brett agrees, but isn't prepared for the faces Eddy throws at him.

The taller violinist bites his lip and stares at his phone screen, while Brett continuously tries to distract himself by with his playing. The look Eddy gives him, as much as it was supposed to be a joke, he couldn't help but be drawn in by those dark eyes and the hooded gaze which is completely directed at Brett and Brett only.

It isn't enough.

Right when Eddy goes to turn off the camera, Brett bolts out of his seat (but careful enough to lay his violin down) to the bathroom.

Eddy watches Brett's figure as he runs to the bathroom. "Brett!"

He stares at his back as Eddy vividly remembers the first time he saw Brett do the same thing only a few months ago. He knows now, knows the pain and suffering Brett is going through. He dashes after his friend, hearing the distant sound of coughing. His pace slows as he approaches the bathroom.

Instead of the sink, Brett is on his knees in front of the toilet.

There is the strange, foreign sound of _plops _coming from the toilet.

He arrives at the doorframe only to see Brett expel what looks like an _entire _orchid from his mouth.

And another-

And another-

"Bro!" Eddy reaches for him, but before he can, Brett looks at him, his eyes warped between a vicious glare and a pleading look.

"Don't go near me!" yells Brett, sitting up and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Brett quickly covers his mouth and skids away from Eddy, his bottom planted on the tiled floor. "Eddy, I'm sorry!"

Eddy stills.

"Brett, what's wrong?" He takes a tentative step forward, only for Brett to push himself even further away.

"I can't hide it from you anymore." Brett shies even more, his gaze now affixed on the floor. Eddy can see his entire figure shaking. "You wanted to know who it is I'm in love with, right?"

At the accusatory tone, Eddy flinches. "Well, yeah, but I won't force you-"

"You deserve to know." His gaze still on the floor, Brett rises to his feet. "I've been hiding this from you for years, you deserve to know."

He looks up at Eddy, his eyes completely filled with tears. And he declares:

"You're my best friend in the whole wide world, Eddy."

Eddy can't say a word.

"You've been with me since we were teenagers." Brett starts, rubbing off his mouth. "I met you in that one math tutoring session and the rest was history."

Brett takes a step forward. "I made a Youtube channel with you, went on a world tour with you," at that phrase his voice cracks but Eddy barely notices. "And- and got to spend my entire life with you by my side."

Brett meets his Eddy's eyes once more. The tears begin flowing.

"I trust you more than anyone in the world. Thank- thank you for everything."

The silence between them builds. Until Eddy realizes that Brett is in front of him.

"I love _you_, Eddy." Brett declares, a bitter smile dawning on his face.

"I'm so sorry."

Eddy barely registers what happens when Brett closes the gap between them.

Brett on his tip-toes gently places his hand on Eddy's cheek and inches forward so that their lips meet.

The kiss isn't sweet, it's melancholy and desperate, like Brett was about to slip from his fingers if Eddy didn't grasp hard enough. It's chaste, it's quick, it's filled with every single emotion Brett has been withholding for the last few years.

Eddy can taste the metallic taste of blood on the other's lips.

Eddy can taste the sadness, the regret, the love, the ache,

_everything._

It reminds him that Brett is actually _in love with him_.

They part. As quick as their lips met, they part.

Eddy, dumbfounded, keeps staring at Brett.

"I'm sorry." Brett sobs, pushing Eddy to leave the bathroom.

Eddy stays in the bathroom, shocked down to the bone. In the back of his mind, he hears Brett slam the door of his apartment, and he is left in the silence Brett carved into the space.

His fingers ghost against his lips, the feeling of Brett's lips against his never leaving his memory.

\---

Brett runs the entire way back to his apartment. As the keys rattle after shutting the front door, Brett speeds towards his bathroom, where he finally sees what he was terrified of seeing after years of having Hanahaki.

A wet _plop _echoes as he sees a full orchid flower drop into the toilet.

_I'm done for, I told Eddy, now he's going to hate me forever._

Brett cries.

For as long as the flowers were there, he knew he would never have his happily ever after.

It's hours later when he lifts his head. He's tucked into the wall of the bathroom, head resting on his knees. His phone vibrates and gently skids on his bathroom floor.

He's missed four phone calls from Eddy. Every five minutes, he hears his text tone. He's being spammed to the brim with messages.

Brett doesn't bother checking them.

He forgets how long he's been cooped up in his apartment. He's been living off the few groceries he stocked up a few days ago, cooking only when he feels hungry. An uncoordinated sleep schedule plus uncoordinated meal times meant that Brett was living off the edge of the cliff.

He coughs up more orchids with every passing day he spent in his apartment.

It feels like he's been stuck in his apartment for an eternity.

He tries not to think too much.

Even the thought of having to leave the safe confines of his apartment scares him. Brett just wanted to get away from the judging eyes of society and his other obligations, and most especially from Eddy.

Eddy tried contacting him every single day. A few texts to remind him to eat, to take his meds, to sleep, etc.

And even an occasional text saying:

_It's okay._

Brett was not okay.

\---

Eddy stands right outside the door of Brett's apartment. The sun is starting to set outside.

He's been trying to contact Brett by any means necessary for the past two days now. Eddy couldn't contact any of their friends in fear of having Brett's secret become public. He knew it was a matter of utmost importance, but couldn't bring himself to tell anyone.

He did contact Dr. Campbell to tell her that he knew who Brett was, and who Brett was in love with, and how Brett's situation was getting worse. He explained almost everything to the physician, who took everything well and told him that it was okay.

She informed him to call emergency services if the situation got any worse.

He reaches over into one of the potted plants in the corridor, pulling out a spare key which Brett hinted to once. With shaky fingers, he goes to unlock the door.

_Do it for Brett,_ He tells himself as the door creaks open.

It's silent.

Too silent.

Barely even a breath could be heard.

That's when Eddy panics.

"Brett?" He calls out to the seemingly empty space. "Buddy, you in there?"

The silence responds eagerly.

"Brett?!"

Eddy paces down the hall towards the bedroom. His fingers carefully turning the handle to minimize any sound.

And he sees him.

Brett is passed out on his bed, surrounded by what looked to be around a hundred pale blue orchids. It's everywhere, right at the base of his bed, on the floor, at his feet, on his chest, one from his mouth teetering and threatening to fall over.

Eddy rushes to stay beside him, falling to his knees. "Brett!"

He takes one of his wrists and checks for a pulse.

Nothing.

Nothing.

A slight thump.

It's faint, but it's there.

Eddy quickly pulls out his phone and dials the emergency line. He is out of breath, not from any talking, but from the stress. He reports the incident with an ease and calm he didn't know he could conjure. The dispatcher asks him for the address which Eddy recites from memory. _Ten minutes, _they say.

_How do I get through these next ten minutes?!_

Eddy grasps Brett's hand tightly. _Stay with me, Brett._

_Please..._

_I can't lose you._

In no time the paramedics rush in, gently pulling Eddy aside to tend to Brett. They carry him onto a stretcher and down into the ambulance.

"Take me with you, please!" Eddy pleads, to which the medics simply nod. He hops in after they gingerly place Brett into the ambulance. He is quickly hooked onto an oxygen line and other instruments which tell the medics his heart rate and other important information which Eddy couldn't give two shits about.

When the medics finally step away from Brett after attaching all the stuff they needed, Eddy reaches over to grasp Brett's hand once more.

All he needed was Brett alive.

\---

He spends the next few hours worrying outside of the ER.

Dr. Campbell was called into the hospital, offering both encouraging words to Eddy and sufficient information for the doctors who were handling Brett. She informs them that they shouldn't perform surgery, at least not yet, due to Brett's hesitation regarding the procedure.

In lieu of that, they give Brett a set of inhibitors, only barely enough to stop his body from making more flowers until Brett wakes up and gives them the final green light for the surgery.

The doctor walks out from the ER and approaches Eddy, who stands at his presence.

"Mr. Yang is in stable condition. We had to administer a set of inhibitors, but overall he's doing pretty well." The doctor informs him.

Eddy breathes a sigh of relief.

"We have already informed Mr. Yang's family, so Mr. Chen, you should go back home now."

Eddy shakes his head, "No, I'm going to stay."

The doctor only smiles at him. "I understand, Mr. Chen. But Brett is likely to wake up tomorrow morning, I can advise you to maybe head back home, have a shower, pack a few of your clothes and come back tomorrow."

Eddy takes the time to consider it before nodding.

"You will also be one of the first to be informed when Mr. Yang wakes up, alright?"

Following doctor's instructions, Eddy does what he is told, managing a 2 hour sleep before heading back to the hospital, a duffle bag already stuffed to the brim with his clothing as well as some stuff Brett left in his apartment. He answers messages from the Yangs as well as his own family, concerned about the well-being of their son's best friend.

In the morning, he meets the Yangs at the hospital lobby, where they sob against his shoulder in a warm embrace. Eddy is doing his best to act strong and confident in front of Brett's family.

But he cannot help the guilt that nips at the back of his mind when he remembers that _he _was the reason why Brett was stuck in the hospital bed in the first place.

\---

Brett wakes up in the morning just like the doctor said.

Eddy watches from the corner of the room as the doctor explains the entire situation. His eyes only met Brett's once, and the latter only tore his gaze away immediately after.

"You agree to having the surgery, Mr. Yang?"

The room drowns in the silence, afraid of Brett's answer.

Brett takes a deep breath and nods. "Yes. Please take care of me."

Eddy feels the weight of his heart increase by a ton.

\---

It's another two days later when Brett is done with the entire procedure.

During the first day, they explained to him and the Yangs in complete detail what they were about to do.

It involved having them cut Brett open (in the most figurative sense) and get to his lungs to remove what they called the 'root' of the Hanahaki. After that, it was a simple task of putting Brett back together and giving him medications for a smoother recovery.

Dr. Campbell is apparently cold enough to remind him that Brett undergoing the surgery would mean that every inch of his romantic feelings towards Eddy would be completely gone.

Eddy isn't sure what he thinks of that.

Nevertheless, he stays by Brett's side the entire time, and when he returns from the ER back to his hospital room, Eddy continues to grasp Brett's hand. The Yangs are out for the day, returning to their home for the afternoon, leaving Brett in Eddy's care.

The older violinist is fast asleep, his breathing steady.

Eddy looks at the gentle look on Brett's face, his face devoid of any signs of pain. His brows are arched in a perfect relaxed manner and he sleeps soundly.

"You're going to rest easy now, Brett." Eddy declares. "You won't be in pain anymore..."

Eddy looks back at Brett's face. A stray lock of hair rests in front of his eyes, which Eddy gently tucks away.

"You're going to be okay."

Eddy feels the tears welling up.

He drops his head down onto the hard mattress of the hospital bed, only cushioned by his other arm which wasn't grasping onto Brett.

Eddy cries into his arm. _I'm sorry for hurting you Brett._

_I hope you forgive me._

His sobs dissolve into quiet sniffles.

Eddy feels something against the hand holding Brett's.

It was a gentle squeeze.

"Brett?" Eddy looks up, his face drenched in tears.

Brett still has his eyes closed.

"... Don't talk like I'm going to die," is Brett's raspy reply.

Eddy thought no other voice would sound so beautiful to his ears.

\---

Brett recovers easily. He gets discharged only after a week, with a few more checkups with Dr. Campbell in the future to monitor his recovery.

They fall back into their regular routine.

It's like the past few months had never happened.

Brett smiles at him even more. Brett looks at him and meets his gaze more. Brett laughs more and cracks more jokes with him. Brett doesn't flinch at the soft, gentle touches Eddy gives him.

Eddy feels like he's back in Brett's loop.

Finally.

\---

It's after they shoot Brett's apology and explanation video onto their channel that Eddy finally has the courage to say those words he has been fearing for so long.

"Brett," Eddy starts.

Brett shoots him a smile as he turns to look at him, carefully packing up the lighting gear.

"I'm sorry."

Brett knows what he's apologizing for. "Don't be."

The words were once spoken between them, only in the opposite direction.

"Y'know, I used to wish I never fell in love with you. I'd tell myself 'make me fall out of love with Eddy Chen, please'," Brett admits. "But it kinda made me realize that I'm truly okay with us being friends."

"Best friends," corrects Eddy.

"_Best_ friends," an affirmation. "And I don't want you to feel guilty, Eddy. You mean so much to me. And during _that _night, I meant every single word I said. You matter so much to me. And besides, I'm happy, you're happy; what more do we need?"

Brett peeks at him with gentle eyes from behind the giant light fixture.

"I love you, Eddy."

The words don't lose their meaning nor their weight.

"I love you too, Brett."

\---

**[end] part iv. allegro**

_v. coda_

_The gentle 'I love you's exchanged between them should've been strictly platonic, Eddy knew that._

_But he couldn't help but feel the uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat._

_It isn't until he wakes up at one in the morning, coughing alone in his room that he worries._

Brett hasn't seen Eddy in days.

It made him worry. Ever since he was released from the hospital, Eddy would keep his significant distance away from him. Brett first thought it was just Eddy giving him room to recover. It wasn't something unusual. It wasn't that Brett and Eddy were attached at the hip.

But it still made him worry.

It is now four months since his emergency surgery.

And they were supposed to film a video today.

Brett sends a text over to Eddy. He only reminds him that he was heading over for their scheduled filming session.

He doesn't get a response back.

Brett walks up to the front door, checking his phone quickly. _Still no reply. _Brett huffs and knocks. "Eddy?"

After a few moments... nothing.

He tries the door.

_Huh? Why is it open?_

Brett duly notes to lock the door as he steps inside. The house is quiet. He discards his shoes quickly, shoving it beside a pair of shoes he knows is Eddy's.

It's way too quiet.

"Eddy?" Brett calls out again. "Bro, where are you?"

He hears the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

"Dude, you in there?" Brett knocks. Fear rushes over him, _oh god what if this guy isn't Eddy-_

The man in question emerges from the white door, meeting eyes with the shorter man. "Hey dude, sorry, was taking care of some business."

Brett only barely notices the raw, red tinge of Eddy's eyes. "You okay?"

The brunet stiffens at the question. "I'm fine." He looks at Brett and offers a light smile. "C'mon, let's set up."

Eddy retreats into the recording room, his back against Brett's. He doesn't give a second glance as he begins to organize their lights and other wires.

Brett is left to stare at Eddy's figure slowly trudging into the other room.

_Time to record, then._

Brett thinks to follow Eddy without any question.

Except something catches his eye before he takes a single step forward.

His feet patter against the cold tiles.

He stands in the bathroom, eyes scanning over the white of the place.

He was about to leave when he looks down.

An audible gasp leaves Brett's mouth as he quickly clamps a hand over himself to stop the sound from meeting Eddy's ears in the other room.

Brett reaches down and picks the offensive object up.

A single petal rests in his palm.

It's a pale blue orchid.

A cough coming from the other room pierces through Brett's thoughts, making him pause mid-thought.

There is a sinking feeling when he realizes.

_Eddy, no..._

_ **[end] symphony** _

_ **\---** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> endnote: thank you everyone for joining me on this journey called symphony, if you're here from wattpad, thank you for sticking around this long. also, wink wink, there is actually a (not too major) difference between this version and the original one from wattpad.
> 
> symphony really is an exploration of me trying out writing in different paces or tempos and styles (which is why it's named symphony and the parts are named after the parts of a symphony). sonata had its own rise, climax, and fall; adagio was a more mellow part; minuet and trio had me try going two different povs which converged in the end; and allegro was full of different, major events which happened in a fast pace. (the start was a bit slow tho sorry)
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed the whole thing! my writing is a bit choppy and rusty because i haven't written in literal years but i tried my best. also i hope i didn't disappoint anyone with this ending QwQ i actually had this ending in mind ever since I started writing, forgive me.
> 
> please let me know what you think of the story. I would love to hear what you guys think.
> 
> thank you so much, and i'll see you next time. :)
> 
> instagram: @dcm_chloe

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you for reading. I wrote this entire thing un-beta'd and English isn't my first language, forgive my horrible grammar and spelling.
> 
> If you like this story, please let me know. I appreciate comments a lot.
> 
> instagram: dcm_chloe


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